Teardrop for Another Day
by triffickie
Summary: LuluxAuron : Angsty, spoilers. Lulu is caught in the between; two men, two lives; halo or horns?


 **Teardrop for Another Day**

By Vera Priscaleth

Rating: R (MAJOR angst)

Disclaimer: Square owns them. It's that simple.

Author's Notes: This piece of fiction wouldn't exist without Stephie, who told me about this idea she had had in her mind while playing FFX. I asked if I could write it and she let me use this intriguing plot-bunny. So THANK YOU. I hope I wrote it out okay. Now, warning for anyone who isn't too crazy about angst; This fic is full of it, so run off now and be saved. Also, if your life consists of Lulu x Wakka-romance, you won't find your break here. Review, if you feel like giving me some feedback. 

Dedication: Written specially for Stephie, but naturally meant for others to enjoy it as well.

 I was stuck between halos and demons. There were two sides of me. I was a Yevonite to the bone, true to the teachings, appeared cool, strong and self-conscious. I was feared and honored. I had Wakka. We were opposites, introvert and extrovert, serious and always joking. I was the black velvet in the night sky; he was the beaming ray of light in the sunny afternoon of Besaid. We completed each other. It was safe. We were guardians, believers, protectors.

  A guardian I would always be, even when my hidden, dark side took over. She was the me I hid. She questioned the Maesters, she was deeply in love with the man she shouldn't be. Sir Auron. She couldn't help feeling the way she did, she really couldn't. And even though her desire for his love sickened the part of me that hid her feelings carefully, she was still strong in me. She wasn't feared, she was frightened herself. Haunted by her past. Wakka didn't know I remembered. I didn't just remember my childhood memories with him and Yuna, but also the time when Sin attacked Besaid, killing our parents. I remember everything, the fire, the screams and the tears of my mother. She carried me, the little girl in the black dress crying, to the Temple. My mother died. Alongside my older sister, a black mage in training, she fought Sin to save me, knowing it would lead to her own destruction. My father, an honored black mage had passed away years ago. I remembered him too. He was in my dreams. But he never said anything, he never guided me. Even in my dreams, I was the little girl in the black dress. Crying. 

  I didn't wish to be that girl. Vulnerable, emotional, eyes pleading for care and comfort. I denied her. And I couldn't tell Wakka, because Wakka wasn't like me. And I had told Sir Auron, because it just felt so right. We were alike, sharing our agonies, never letting anyone know. His blood-filled memories of his best friends, companions, allies dying in front of his eyes. He wanted revenge, yet he did not tell me to whom.  We were kindred spirits, incomplete together. Destructively romantic, wrong yet beautiful. 

  I felt deep guilt. Anguish for Wakka. He loved me; it was in his eyes, his touch. His love was pure, light and innocent, yet strong. I didn't feel the same. I could never tell him that. But I could never lie to him either. Wakka was my friend, the friend I loved the most. He had kept me sane all these years; he was going to continue doing so. Wakka was special to me. Yet not special in the way he thought he was.

 Sun was setting over Macalania. We were taking a break, silently we ate and rested. The icy lake was ahead of us. There was no guarantee we'd make it through. I glanced over at Yuna, then Wakka and noticed that Wakka was keeping on eye on her too. She ate in silence, carefully glancing sideways to the young man eating next to her. My heart ached. Out of all cruel destinies Yuna chose this one. Me and Wakka followed her. We would make sure it wouldn't fail. 

  I went outside. On that moment I needed my space, my own peace. Just for a second. So I could cry. My tears froze on my face. I didn't care. I just hated myself for letting this happen. I should've told her no in the first place. I buried my face in my hands. It hurt so much. 

A pair of strong arms was suddenly wrapped around my trembling figure. 

"This isn't like you," he whispered with a low tone.

"I know," I replied numbly, my eyes following the snowy haze upon the lake.  

"You should tell her how you feel."

"No."

He shouldn't comfort me, not right now. Not when Wakka, or anyone, might see. His presence only wanted me to sink more. But instead of shaking it all off, fleeing inside, back in the warmth of an Al Bhed cottage, I turned around the face him and felt his own warmth, radiating from him. Our lips touched, a small brushing motion that left me intoxicated and wanting for more. And then we were away from the world, in our own universe where there was only the painful love and the tender touch. 

Moment closed. It had been endearing, passionate, gentle. But things change. In my unfortunate, cruel life, things have a way of turning worse. I watched the two men I loved the most; one as a brother, other as a lover, fade away. And I loved them both too much to lose them. My worst fears were turning reality. Everything had been built on shattering forms before, but now the basis was shaking so hard I could only wait for it to collapse. The two persons in me became one and her soul was dying along with the things she loved. I no longer believed.

Wakka saw through me. Lies were no longer necessary. He knew. He was hurt, but pretended anything else. That was so much like Wakka. So I guess we knew each other too well.

Auron was trapped inside himself, his painful past and his memories. He was to be released from everything. He went to the Farplane. His story was over, as mine was only taking turns at the same time. His story wasn't mine, nor was mine his. 

I didn't cry. I tried, but I couldn't.

I only cried out of sheer joy of seeing Yuna happy and lively. She was giving out a speech to the people of Spira. She made them trust her, she made them once again, believe. For a better tomorrow. She believed. Yet pain lay beneath her smile, as it always had been, ever since her pilgrimage had begun in Besaid. The hidden depths I hadn't seen in her before she met Tidus. She spoke promises she wanted to keep, to the people. Rikku smiled. And I tried to smile at Wakka. But darkness clouded my heart and covered the sun in the sky. I wanted to wane, like the moon.

We retrieved from the balcony, and Wakka pulled me aside. Time for discussion. Unleash the anger, the thoughts, the pain. Whatever.

 "Lu, this has to stop," he said, resignedly.

  "Wakka." My mouth was numb; I could no longer speak loud.

  "Lu, I—Lulu, I don't understand."

 "What?" I spat hastily. He backed off. The lump in my throat got bigger. I was going to cry soon. Why did I yell at Wakka? Why couldn't I just let everything go?

 "Why you can't love me like you love him?" Wakka was completely serious and was staring deep into my eyes. I couldn't avoid the look. 

 "Loved, Wakka, loved." That's right, Auron was gone now. No more could I love him. No more.

 "Don't lie to yourself, Lu. You still love him. That's why I'm asking. Why?"

It stung my heart so deep, to admit Wakka was right. 

     "I don't wish to just stand here and beg, Lu. You either have me or you don't."

Serious tone again. Disappear. Disappear.

   "Cat got your tongue, ya? Well, I'm going now."

He turned to leave, but I quickly placed my palm on his arm. His eyes looked hopeful, waiting, but the answer I gave him wasn't what he had expected.

  "I love you, Wakka. As a brother, as a friend. As a fellow guardian, as everything other than…"

  "….Sir Auron." He nodded. 

No words were wanted after that. He went away. I had loved and lost. Or perhaps I had only lost. And Wakka knew me better than I knew myself. Now he wasn't mine to love anymore; not as a brother, not as a lover. I kept standing there, waiting for the moment when I'd fall. Clamorous crowds below my eyes. I gazed upon the sky. And I vanish. I become another dream. And then I'm nothing.

What remains is my weapon. A little, stubby girl in a black dress and black hair enters the scene and picks up a moogle doll. She holds it close to her chest and whispers: "I missed you Mog". And she wasn't crying anymore.

~update 10/20/02 ~ Thank you for the reviews, I'm also very glad Stephie enjoyed this. I just went over this fic today and corrected everything I found myself disliking.


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